


I’ll snap you in two

by Mister_Doctor_Strange



Category: Patrick Melrose (TV), Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Drug Use, Drugged Sex, Healing, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Past Rape/Non-con, Pedophilia, Prostitution, Rape Recovery, Rape/Non-con Elements, Recovery, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-16 18:47:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28961196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mister_Doctor_Strange/pseuds/Mister_Doctor_Strange
Summary: (Okay, first of all read the tags. If stuff like this triggers you then don’t read fanfiction like this. I use my writing to cope with past trauma and hope it’ll help others too. Also, this as almost everything in my life is heavily influenced by Patrick Melrose.)Sherlock doesn’t do these types of cases. Sherlock doesn’t do anything that has to do with that topic. Sherlock isn’t alarmed by it. He just doesn’t acknowledge it either. But when Greg comes to him with two traumatised children, he takes their case. This is the aftermath.
Relationships: Patrick Melrose/John Watson, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Sherlock Holmes/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18





	I’ll snap you in two

**Author's Note:**

> Sherlock didn’t look up once. He just heard the sounds and didn’t know how many of them were real and how many were just playing in his own head.

Within a matter of seconds John, Greg and around twenty armed policemen stormed the building armed and screaming bloody murder. Sherlock watched in a blur as Lestrade tackled the much heavier man to the ground, got on top of him and in a smooth motion brought the suspect’s arms behind his back.

”Got him!”

As soon as the detective inspector gave the go, Sally sprinted past the men and pulled the two sobbing girls into a hug.

”It’s over now. It’s over, he can’t hurt you anymore”, the woman repeated countless times, as she carefully ran her hands down the children’s backs. 

They held onto her with their eyes shut tightly while three of the DI’s men made the criminal get up from the dirty floor. They took the knife out of his pocket and checked for other weapons. Once they were sure he was unarmed, the men led their suspect outside past Sherlock who didn’t look at him once. The detective didn’t take these cases. And he wouldn’t have, hadn’t Greg begged him to help.

”Thank you“, Lestrade said in all honesty as he stood in front of the consulting detective.

That was the moment Sherlock looked up for the first time. And from the corner of his eyes he saw the fat, dirty man in his white undershirt and his jeans hanging half below his butt being forced into the police car. When his vision got clearer again, he realised that he’d been the only one who’d just seen this image. He was alone in the room with Greg, Sally, Anderson, John and a few of the team, the only thing audible being the young girls’ quiet sobbing.

”That was a rather thrilling one. A nine the least. I’d prefer if you gave me more cases like these and not just boring fives all the time.”

The detective inspector frowned but nodded. Of course Sherlock had to be Sherlock. Even when it came to a case this gruesome. Seven children had died and the two girls in Sally’s arm had been destined to follow. The woman shook her head and glared at Holmes, not daring to raise her voice though in fear of scaring the girls.

”Yeah”, Lestrade scratched the back of his head.

”John? We’re leaving.”

The shorter man let out a sigh and gave Donovan’s shoulder a quick caress before walking outside with his flatmate. Once they couldn’t be heard anymore he grabbed Sherlock’s arm.

”That was entirely uncalled for, Sherlock! Normally I let you be your sociopathic self that you’re so weirdly proud of but for Christ’s Sake! Children have died. Children, Sherlock. Innocent minors. How can you possibly stand there and judge this case like- like- like a bloody game?”

”Would you kindly not scream around? I had a long couple of days solving this. I feel a headache creeping up, just be quiet, will you?”

”What?”

Watson looked away angrily. He shook his head and just walked next to Sherlock in silence. After a few minutes the former soldier noticed his friend continuously touching his right side again and again very subtly. He probably wasn’t even aware of it himself. John stopped and just opened his mouth to talk but Sherlock just continued walking. At first John didn’t think anything at all, then he thought Holmes just was a brat but then the doctor realised that Sherlock must have not even noticed he’d walked past John.

”Sherlock?”, he said rather loudly to catch his friend’s attention.

And really, the taller came to a hold and looked around, finding John a few metres behind.

”Sorry”, he shook his head which now really made John frown.

Sherlock saying sorry was never a good sign. The shorter walked up to him.

”Are you hurt?”

It didn’t really sound like a question. Rather like an observation.

”No- why?”

”You’re holding your side. As if it’s hurting whenever you make a step forward.”

”Oh-“, Holmes looked to his right which confirmed to John that his flatmate knew exactly what he was referring to.

The former soldier had learned a lot from the younger Holmes brother in the last years.

”Yes. Exactly there. Don’t even begin to deny it. You’ll let me look at it.”

”There is no need to be annoying, John.”

”Annoying. It’s funny how you see people who care about you.”

They soon after reached their home at Baker Street. It was freezing cold and dark outside and John really, really hoped that Mrs. Hudson had made sure all windows were closed in 221b and there was preferably a fire burning. And really, the two men returned to a cozy flat that had tea waiting in the living room.

”You know that I care about you, don’t you?”, John asked the other out of nowhere.

Even Sherlock had not seen that one coming but without thinking at all he just replied.

”I care about you too.”

”Oh- thank you. I- that’s a nice thing to say.”

John got out of his jacket and put his scarf to the side, eying Holmes unsure of why he was behaving like this. So absentminded and lost in thoughts.

”Can I see now?”

”What?”

”Your side.”

”Oh. No, John. Nothing happened, I’m just a bit- I just ran around too much. That’s all.”

”You’d do us both a favour if you’d just let me check. It wouldn’t be the first time you’re hiding an injury from me.”

“Right.”

Sometimes even the cleverest detective in the world knew he’d not win against John Hamish Watson. He lay down on the couch and pulled his shirt up. John kneeled down next to him, warmed his fingers up and carefully inspected Sherlock’s skin. No fresh wound, just a faint scar that was visible on the pale surface. Watson looked up and saw Sherlock swallowing hard. He looked so uncomfortable. Very on edge.

”What kind of pain is it?”

”Just- it doesn’t really hurt”, the younger sighed.

”Just a bit of a- an uncomfortable- a weird feeling.”

John got more alert by the second for some reason. Sherlock was just behaving weirdly.

”Okay. Right. I’ll just press lightly and you’ll tell me if it gets worse.”

”If you want to waste our time with it.”

”Yes, I’ll actually gladly waste our time with this as I’m your doctor and you’re never honest with me when you’re either ill or in pain or both. So-“

John carefully pressed a slight bit, right above the old scar on Sherlock’s skin and surprising enough, Sherlock seemed to flinch.

”Alright, you’re hurt and don’t even say anything.”

”I’m ticklish.”

”You’re a dead man if you joke about this one more time, I swear to god, Sherlock. If you hurt yourself on a case I need to know.”

”You’re paranoid.”

Sherlock got to his feet and pulled his shirt down all the way again. He quickly brushed past Watson and walked into the direction of his room.

”Uh- I don’t think so, Sherlock! Sherlock!”

John tried to get after him but the taller just closed the door behind him and locked it.

”Oh no, I really don’t think so! Sherlock! If something happens to you I can’t get in! Sherlock!”

John sighed and leaned against the wooden door. He took a deep breath, counted to ten in his head and then knocked rather softly.

”I need to get in if you’re hurt. If you- if something happens. I promise not to disturb your privacy. Please.”

The doctor waited for Sherlock to unlock patiently.

“Please I just care. Sherlock?”

He heard the detective breathing on the other side of the door.

”Do you trust me?”

A few seconds passed, then the doctor heard the key turn.

”Goodnight, Sherlock.”

Watson shook his head confused and got back to the living room. He’d let him be for now.


End file.
